The Worst Has Yet To Come
by Chibi Rose Angel
Summary: Raphael has never been one to show his emotions openly. As he watches his newly transformed brother, however, he is tormented by insecurities and doubts.


The Worst Has Yet To Come 

**_Author's Notes_**: Like so many others, I have decided to write my very own piece about Donnie turning into the Gameradon. I might expand upon this idea but for now it's going to be a one shot. Kudos to all of those who have written about Donnie turning into a monster but I'm hoping my story will be different. This story has a few swear words here or there but nothing too bad. If this story contains any errors or if the story flat out sucks, then when I get back into town, I'll send this piece to Dierdre so she can look over it for me. Also, if I disappear for the next couple of days, it's because I'm going out of town tonight. Happy reading!

**_Disclaimer_**: I don't own the TMNT franchise or anything TMNT related. This story is meant for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only.

Raphael's point of view

I'm standing here in front of the container that holds the monstrosity that used to be my brother, Donatello. Pressing my hand against the case, I couldn't help staring at him sadly. Inside the containment unit, he furiously clawed, punched, beat and pressed upon his prisoner, intent on obtaining freedom.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I continued to watch him. Could that truly be my brother, the soft-spoken pacifist that I had grown up with for the past fifteen years?

He always had all the answers. He could fix anything you gave him. Shell, as far as I'm concerned he was the smartest person on the planet. But with this damn outbreak and the infected victims on the loose, we were stuck depending on ourselves.

The one time that we **_desperately_** needed Donnie's help more than ever…

"Donnie, bro, I know you're in there somewhere. Ya just gotta come back to us…to me…" I whispered softly, fearing that if I spoke loudly, my voice would betray me.

I was greeted with angry snarls and grunts as he continued to abuse the container.

Honestly, it hurt to see him like this. Donnie didn't deserve this. He was too good a person, too gentle a soul! He shouldn't be in that container. He shouldn't be a mutated monster filled with rage either…

I'm the one who's supposed to be filled with an unquenchable anger. I'm the one who's supposed to be consumed by wrathful passionate flames. It should be _**me**_ in that chamber and **_not_** Donnie.

Momentarily removing my hand from the container, I clenched my fists tightly as I thought about the man responsible for Donnie's current predicament. The sadness vanished as a fierce anger took hold of me.

Dammit it! This was all Bishop's fault! That son of bitch just had to go and create **_aliens _**so he could _**rescue**_ the President. Now thanks to him, an outbreak had occurred, infecting who knows how many people. Oh when I got my hands on that bastard, he was going to pay _**dearly**_ for this!

And just as quickly as the anger came, it left only to be replaced with sadness yet again. Gently placing my hand on the case again, guilt and regret began to eat away at me. It felt like those two feelings were spreading rapidly throughout my body like a deadly disease.

Why did this have to happen? Why didn't we see this coming? The sneezing, coughing, shaking, sweating, sudden weakness and fatigue all alluded to the common cold but in reality, his DNA was being tampered with and yet we never knew. And the worst part of this entire situation is that Leatherhead doesn't even have a cure!

How in the hell are we supposed to help Donnie if there isn't a cure? It's not like science or technology is our strong suit. And there's no way in shell I'd be willing to strike a deal with Bishop but what other choice do we have?

Do we try to create some type of cure on our own or do we leave Donnie like this?

"What are we supposed to do Donnie?" I muttered as a lone tear slipped down my cheek.

More pounding and punching against the container answered me.

Sighing forlornly, I removed my hand from the chamber and took a good long, hard look at my brother.

He looked so different, so angry, so upset….

Never before in all of my life had I felt so utterly and completely powerless. I could easily take out a Purple Dragon, a Foot Ninja, Triceratons, Aliens and all sorts of other enemies but this time, my strength, which was always my greatest power couldn't help me at all.

As I continued to stare at my brother, I thought back to all of the times I ignored him. I was always doing my own thing. Raphael, the rebel, didn't have time to be bothered with Donatello.

I never took the time to hang out with him, sit down and talk to him or anything of the sort. No, I was too caught up in being angry. Too caught up in going topside to bust skulls. Shell, I paid more attention to Casey and the others than I did to Donnie.

Suddenly, my throat went dry as the tears finally began rolling down my cheeks. And as I stood there crying, lost in my own grief and inner turmoil, I knew this was only the beginning of our troubles because the worst had yet come…


End file.
